


Visitor

by last_system_lord



Series: Enemy Amongst Us [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M, Post-Continuum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/last_system_lord/pseuds/last_system_lord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was in her own house, on her laptop, when she felt a prickle from the naquadah in her blood. Really, Sam supposed, she should be more alarmed that he knew where she lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Visitor

Sam stayed away from Ba’al. Partly because she honestly didn’t trust herself around him; she kept telling herself that becoming… involved with him would be the worst idea of her life, but it really didn’t sound that bad. Honestly, she was already hiding a potential threat, how much worse could it possibly get? She still couldn’t do it, though. He was the _enemy_.

And then there was his arrogance; _I look forward to seeing you again soon_ , he’d said, clearly expecting her to head straight back to him. So Sam didn’t, petty, yes, but she felt the need to show him that she wasn’t in awe of him, didn’t need to follow his expectations. Didn’t need to follow anyone’s expectations, except then… Sam shook her head.

She’d have to head back eventually, if only because he was still a potential threat, but maybe she’d just head back to his work. That way, she’d know he was still around and staying out of trouble, without putting herself into another awkward situation.

A month passed with Sam staying away.

It was long enough that Sam was starting to get really nervous about what Ba’al might be doing in her absence. Like maybe recruiting worshippers.

In the end, she was in her own house, on her laptop, when she felt a prickle from the naquadah in her blood. Really, Sam supposed, she should be more alarmed that he knew where she lived.

‘Your sense of style,’ said Ba’al, examining her curtains with obvious distaste, ‘leaves much to be desired.’

‘How did you get in?’ asked Sam, turning around to face him. Ba’al had actually managed to dress somewhat casually, in jeans and a simple polo shirt, but the outfit was clearly still carefully chosen; it certainly suited him. ‘For that matter, how the hell did you get my address?’

‘I followed you,’ Ba’al admitted and held up a hand to forestall Sam’s angry response. ‘You followed me, so it seemed only fair.’

‘This is my planet,’ Sam reminded him. ‘I’m _supposed_ to live here and I’m not the one hatching megalomaniacal plans. So, no, fair doesn’t really come into it.’

‘I live here now, which makes it my planet by adoption.’ Ba’al moved away from her curtains and started prowling around the room. ‘And I have _not_ been hatching any plans, megalomaniacal or otherwise.’

‘Glad to hear it.’ Sam was surprised to find she was more comfortable with him there, in the safety of her house. It removed the trapped feeling she always got in his apartment. ‘So, how did you get in and why are you here?’

‘I’m afraid I broke in.’ Ba’al held up what looked suspiciously like a set of lock picks, and a good quality set at that, to Sam’s trained eye. ‘But don’t worry; your lock is still functional. As for why I’m here, you said you intended to keep an eye on me, I’m merely helping out.’

‘You can’t come here. Seriously, if anyone sees you…’ Sam massaged her temples.

‘The risk is minimal and worth it. You may not be intelligent be galactic standards, but you are the most intelligent human on this planet and I _do_ get bored.’

Sam’s head snapped up and she looked at him suspiciously. Was it possible he was the same Ba’al she’d nailed in the face? Or was the use of the same phrasing simply because he was, to all intends and purposes, the same person?

Ba’al moved behind her and examined her computer screen. ‘That _was_ a compliment.’

‘Wow, really?’ Sam shifted forward in an attempt to conceal the highly classified work from him. ‘It was so veiled in insults I hardly noticed.’

His hands on her shoulders were not really a surprise, but Sam still jumped slightly. Ba’al laughed softly and his breath tickled her ear, Sam was strongly reminded of when he’d forced her to give up a list of planets. ‘Ba’al.’

‘Is there a problem?’

‘ _Yes._ ’ Sam shifted, refusing to admit that it was far less of a problem than it should be. ‘Get off.’

Somewhat predictably, Ba’al did _not_ get off, but increased the pressure on her shoulders. ‘Now, Samantha, you don’t mean that.’

‘I _really_ do. You’re not the first alien to stalk me like this, in fact you’re just the last in a long line and I _don’t_ appreciate it. If you keep bothering me, I might have to say you’ve breached our agreement.’

Frankly, Sam had expected the insinuation that Ba’al’s actions were not particular original to rile him a bit, but no, he still didn’t move. And, come to think of it, it probably hadn’t been fair to Orlin to compare him to Ba’al; even if Orlin had been more than a little creepy.

‘Samantha,’ Ba’al breathed in her ear and Sam was on the verge of turning around and slapping him when he continued, ‘you have a mistake. There.’

Somehow, Sam had forgotten all about the sensitive work open on her laptop which consisted mainly of lines and lines of equations. One of which, Ba’al had removed one hand from her shoulder to point at.

Grateful for the distraction, Sam scanned the line in question. ‘No, it’s fine.’

‘Yes, absolutely fine; if a particularly poor output was your aim. Your naquadah generator could be connected with far better efficiency.’

Sam moved forward, out of his grip, and shut the laptop with a sharp snap.

Ba’al sighed. ‘I _could_ help you with that.’

‘I’m sure you could,’ said Sam, because he really could, Ba’al had demonstrated he was very good with Ancient technology and the particular device she wanted to power up was being very stubborn. ‘But it’s classified.’

‘Classified?’ Ba’al’s eyebrows shot up. ‘The very existence of my species is classified so perhaps _classified_ is not your best argument.’

‘That was code for: I don’t want you learning about the technology we have.’

Ba’al’s eye roll was spectacular. ‘Yes, clearly. However, as I will not actually have access to the technology in question, that hardly matters.’

The image of a single use Stargate built in her basement was burnt into Sam’s mind, even though Ba’al was hardly as smart as Orlin, the Goa’uld were known for adapting other technology and using it as their own. ‘You don’t _need_ to have access to the original technology to make use of it.’

‘Of course not.’ Ba’al smirked. ‘I am willing to agree not to build anything from the information I learn from your current research.’

‘You’re not going to learn anything from my current research, because you’re not going to _see_ my current research.’

‘Come now, Samantha, you have discovered plenty of technology through your Stargate program, no doubt decades of research, perhaps even centuries given the development of your species. Surely you would benefit from some help. Now _I_ …I already know far more then you Tau’ri, so who would be better?’

‘Maybe someone I can trust?’ Sam pointed out firmly. ‘You’re not going anywhere _near_ our alien technology, or the research on it.’

Ba’al flung himself down onto her couch dramatically. ‘Hands off you, hands off your technology. Why do I bother?’

Sam was unable to stop a smile breaking through. ‘Wow. You are such a drama queen.’

‘I’m _bored_. I’d forgotten how tedious it can be on your planet, where everyone believes a touch screen or a three-dimensional printer to be the height of technological advancement.’

Unfortunately, Sam could see what he meant. After her year on Atlantis, she was constantly mourning the absence of certain technology and after all her time at the SGC regular airplane travel was the slowest thing imaginable. But she could hardly ask the Odyssey to beam her everywhere she wanted to go.

Sam studied him thoughtfully. If she was careful, very, _very_ careful, about what she showed him…

‘You would _promise_ not to use the information to build anything? I can’t have you building weird devices on Earth, no matter how harmless you say they are.’

The immediate hopeful expression on Ba’al’s face should not have been gratifying and yet somehow was. ‘I promise not to build anything with the information you give me.’

Sam narrowed her eyes. ‘I said _any_ weird device.’

‘…or with information I already have, I suppose.’ Ba’al gave a long suffering sigh.

‘Seriously. If I go ahead with this and find you’re using it to build stuff, this arrangement would be _over_.’

‘I understand.’ Ba’al waved a hand dismissively and Sam wondered just how many lines she was going to cross for him. Was she really going to do this? There was considerable risk involved, Sam was well aware of it, and yet… They had years and years of technology to study and no idea what most of it was, the truth was, Ba’al’s help could be invaluable.

‘Okay.’ Sam folded her arms. ‘You look only at the stuff I directly give you and you don’t make any changes to my equations without telling me, and you _always_ save the original.’

‘Excellent,’ said Ba’al and moved towards her computer.

‘Hey!’ Sam snatched the laptop in question, cradling it to her chest. ‘What part of ‘stuff I directly give you’ didn’t you understand?’

‘Obviously starting with that.’

‘No,’ Sam argued. ‘ _Not_ starting with that, not even starting _today_.’ Sam rubbed her temples. She was going to have to set up a computer specially, that way there would be _nothing_ on it that she hadn’t cleared for him to see. Ba’al sat back down heavily and Sam gave him a pointed look. ‘That’s your cue to leave.’

‘Hmm. Or…’ Ba’al let his eyes wander slowly over her. ‘Perhaps there is something else you’d like to reconsider.’

Sam only questioned the wisdom of throwing the couch cushion at him _after_ it had hit. It bounced off his chest and settled in his lap and Sam carefully placed her computer back on the table just in case she needed her hands free to defend herself.

Ba’al tilted his head to one side quizzically. ‘Was that a yes?’

Briefly, Sam considered aiming the second cushion at his head. ‘What do you think?’ She clocked Ba’al’s expression and back peddled. ‘No. It was a no. The front door’s that way, you can let yourself out.’

Somewhat predictably, Ba’al didn’t move. Sam sighed. ‘You must have somewhere else to be.’

‘Must I?’ Ba’al lifted an eyebrow.

‘Apparently not,’ Sam muttered. Though he’d turned up at her house out of sheer boredom so maybe she shouldn’t be surprised. Balancing her laptop on her knees, Sam flipped open the lid.

Ba’al watched her carefully and a little hopefully, and Sam smiled to herself. She logged in past her pretty damn significant security measures and watched as he started to stand. Sam reached forward and rested a hand on the top of her computer screen, as if about to close it. Ba’al huffed out a frustrated breath and sat back again.

‘I told you,’ said Sam pointedly, watching him in the edge of her vision as she continued; ‘you can’t work on this laptop. However, I’ve got work to do and if you’re not going to leave, then you’ll just have to sit there and watch me work.’

‘Watch you work?’ Ba’al sounded incredulous, but still didn’t leave.

‘Yeah.’ Sam couldn’t help the grin that broke through. ‘And if you want to make yourself useful, you can make me some coffee.’

_________________________

It was a few days later that Sam rocked up at his apartment with two laptops full of highly classified information. One for her, one for him. She’d been given special approval to bring certain information out of the SGC years back, to allow her to work from home when necessary, always given that information was encoded. There were other strict rules, one of which Sam was in the process of blatantly ignoring, but once one rule was broken...

The downward spiral was starting to scare her.

Still, she reminded herself, years of work. They could use a little help. And what the others at the SGC didn’t know couldn’t hurt them, hopefully. Sam knocked on Ba’al’s apartment door, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Sam checked her watch. She was fairly certain his work was closed at this time in the evening, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that Ba’al wasn’t home. She quashed the growing anxiety for the safety of the planet. It wasn’t like Ba’al would spend every free moment in his apartment after all.

The laptops started feeling heavy and Sam shifted impatiently, wishing she had some way of contacting him, other than just showing up at his flat.

She could leave, but, well, he’d broken into her house and Sam had a perfectly good set of lock picks. A quick look around the stairway assured her there was no-one around to watch and maybe report her to the police, but the thought made her pause; that would be just _perfect_. To keep Ba’al’s presence hidden from the SGC only to be arrested at his apartment for breaking in.

Also, she had no idea how Ba’al would respond. He’d broken into her house, of course, but then she didn’t have a reputation for blowing things up when she was slighted.

Although getting him to fetch her coffee had probably been a slight in itself, and he hadn’t seemed too offended. Of course, it had put her it the uncomfortable position of actually having to drink the coffee when he unexpectedly made it. He’d watched closely as she sipped it and had it not come out of her own kitchen Sam would have been convinced it had been laced with something.

A smile tugged at her lips and she knocked on the door one more time.

Still no answer, but Sam was becoming aware of a vague tingling feeling that she had come to associate with the presence of Goa’uld. The naquadah in her blood certainly did have its uses, even if she never had been able to get the Goa’uld devices to work for her. She knocked again, with more force.

‘Hey! I know you’re in there,’ Sam called, but not too loudly. No need to bring the whole apartment block out just because she had to deal with a stubborn System Lord.

‘Actually, I’m not.’ Ba’al’s amused voice came from behind her and Sam rolled her eyes.

She fixed a scowl on her face as she turned around to face him. ‘Are you going to let us both in, or what?’

Ba’al eyed the laptop cases and raised an eyebrow.

‘Yes,’ said Sam, a little grumpily. ‘This _is_ the highly classified information that I’m not supposed to be showing you.’

‘In that case…’ He produced a key from his carefully tailored suit and smirked. ‘I would be delighted to.’ Ba’al opened the door with a flourish and held it open for her. ‘I believe the phrase is; ladies first.’

Sam rolled her eyes again and walked purposefully past him into the apartment, only to feel his hand on her lower back as she entered the doorway. Punching him again might not be the best idea now that he had the opportunity to fight back, so Sam just neatly sidestepped the move and continued in like nothing had happened.

He didn’t say anything and Sam was not disappointed. No. She was not disappointed at all.

The laptops hit his kitchen table with more force than she’d intended.

‘Try not to break that,’ said Ba’al casually, with a smile that said he knew _exactly_ what she was thinking.

‘I _should_ break it,’ Sam muttered under her breath. Break it rather than give it to him, but the potential _knowledge_ he could give them… That’s what she was there for (not his company).

Sam handed him one laptop and Ba’al quickly opened it.

Sighing softly as she set up her own laptop Sam glanced over at him. ‘By the way, do you have a phone? I’m not bothering to turn up here when you’re not in.’

Ba’al’s smirk was back in full force. ‘Are you asking for my number, Samantha?’

Oh for the love of…

‘Ba’al,’ Sam complained.

‘Of _course_ you may have my number,’ Ba’al told her and immediately reeled it off so Sam had to fumble to get out her phone. He opened up a file on the computer. ‘Now, what do we have here?’

Sam bit back a smile at his obvious glee. Really, she was doing everyone a favour; a bored System Lord was the last thing _any_ planet needed. ‘Data taken on the structure of a depleted Ancient personal shield; we want to know if we can recharge it.’

‘Recharge it?’ Ba’al rubbed his hands together and got to work. ‘Excellent.’

 


End file.
